Periwinkles have long been a part of Irish food culture, says Máirtín Mac Con Iomaire, senior lecturer in culinary arts, gastronomy and food studies at the Dublin Institute of Technology

And they’ve long been part of the Buckleys’ lives. “We’d eat winkles by the bagload,” says Margaret, who arrived with her sister to their patch this Friday morning at 8am. “I loved them. Still love them.”

While the gastropods are not as popular as they once were, they’re still available on Moore Street, and, now and then, in Dublin restaurants.

In Kilkee, Co. Clare, it is tradition to serve periwinkles on the street, says Mac Con Iomaire. “Hot, cooked periwinkles there and then.”

Periwinkles appear in folk songs and poetry, Mac Con Iomaire writes “Food as ‘Motif’ in the Irish Song Tradition”.

Kerry poet Sigerson Clifford’s poem “The Winkle Woman”, is one example: “In the dusk of the evening I will hurry down/ And sell my periwinkles in the cold strange town.”

Margaret (left) and Imelda Buckley with a customer at their stall on Moore Street.

A Hard Sell

“City folk seemed to favour bi-valve molluscs like oysters and mussels, while country folk favoured gastropods like winkles,” Mac Con Iomaire writes in his paper “The History of Seafood in Irish Cuisine and Culture”.

But there are exceptions, of course, and Dublin has historically had periwinkle dealers who would head for the coast, gather gastropods, and sell them in the city centre, he says.

At certain times of the year, chef and restaurateur Niall Sabongi, who owns Klaw and the Seafood Café in Temple Bar, puts “peris” on his menu.

“They are a hard sell,” says Sabongi. “Tourists and foreigners generally order them. But with Irish people, you need to get them to try periwinkles. Whelks are an easier sell than periwinkles.”

Last week, Sabongi cooked periwinkles with cider and leeks, served in a tin can with toothpicks. “They don’t need that much cooking,” he says. “When overcooked they’re rubbery as hell.”

Sabongi says there is “nothing like” cold periwinkles served with fresh mayonnaise.

Winkle Ways

Other customers cook them in herbs and spices. Or make periwinkle sandwiches with salt and vinegar. “Sure, whatever turns you on,” says Buckley. “Whatever you fancy.”

Boiling periwinkles, “nothing fancy”, does Buckley just fine.

These days, older Dubliners and “the Chinese” buy her periwinkles, which cost €5 a kilo, she says.

“People will say ‘Do you still do winkles?'” says Buckley. “So then they’ll put it on Facebook to tell their friends.”

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